


Immoral Deeds

by alyuchiha913



Series: Immoral Desires [2]
Category: Code Geass
Genre: Bottom Suzaku, Desire, Enemy Lovers, Forbidden, Forbidden Love, Gay Sex, Internal Conflict, Internal Monologue, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:49:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26539135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alyuchiha913/pseuds/alyuchiha913
Summary: He'd long accepted that he couldn't control his thoughts and emotions whenever he saw the masked figure. He’d long assented to the immoral desires he kept hidden in the deepest recesses of his mind. But this...this was preposterous. It was improper. It was forbidden. But it felt so damn good.Suzaku-centric. Zero/Suzaku. Sequel to "Immoral Desires"___Originally published on FFnet - November 2009.Revised and posted on Ao3 - September 2020.
Relationships: Kururugi Suzaku/Lelouch Lamperouge | Lelouch vi Britannia, Kururugi Suzaku/Zero
Series: Immoral Desires [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1920040
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31





	Immoral Deeds

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this fic back in 2009, and at the time it was the first time I'd ever written anything like this. Since then, I've brushed up my skills a bit, so I decided to do some revision to this piece before posting it here, as I wanted to improve some issues that had been pointed out by reviewers, and also expand it to give a more in-depth look at Suzaku's internal conflict (and I may have gotten a bit carried away in some regards). Thus, this version not an exact replica of the one that can be found on Ffnet, but it still carries the same theme, style and content of the original.
> 
> \----
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. This work is purely for entertainment purposes only.
> 
> \----
> 
> Recommended playlist:  
> Give by Tori Amos  
> Fragrance by Gackt  
> Desire by Meg Myers (original and/or the Hucci Remix)
> 
> \----
> 
> Suzaku's POV

It was wrong.

So unbelievably wrong.

Suzaku groaned in pleasure and frustration at the impure (incredible) feelings surging through him. He shouldn’t be doing this, he reminded himself, even as nimble hands skimmed across his tan skin; slender fingers grazing, grasping, clawing – leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. He shuddered in apprehension (…and something more…enticing) as his body reacted zealously to the motions of the man pressing against him. This was by far the most impulsive and insane thing he’d ever done in all his life. _He shouldn’t be doing this._

It was absurd.

He’d long acknowledged that he yearned for the man he was supposed to be fighting against; his enemy – the one leading the rebellion that he was supposed to crush. **_Zero_**. He’d long accepted that he couldn’t control his thoughts and emotions whenever he saw the masked figure (every time he saw him, his blood boiled with something much darker than the rage he knew he _should_ feel but _didn’t_ , and he’d find himself rushing to seek out privacy as soon as he was able; scrambling to attain gratification at his own hand). He’d long assented to the immoral desires he kept hidden in the deepest recesses of his mind; but this – this indecency that he was currently participating in…this was preposterous.

It was improper.

It went against everything he had been taught; against every principle he’d been raised to believe in. It was the opposite of every moral and value he’d held himself to in his life. All of his training and discipline, everything within him, shouted at him that he shouldn’t be succumbing to such salacious actions…but who was he kidding? Hadn’t he already abandoned all of that from the very first moment he had given in to the treacherous longings he felt for the masked villain? He’d long since tainted himself; degrading himself to the lewd act of satisfying his own wanton urges to licentious fantasies of the rebel night after night…but still, every fibre of his being clamoured at him that the libertine deed he was now engaged in was far beyond that; crossing a line that could never be uncrossed.

It was _forbidden_.

**_But it felt so damn good._ **

He moaned as those elegant hands continued their sensual path down his body, causing him to writhe and whimper as they groped and stroked him in the most gratifying ways. His own hands clenched and unclenched at his sides as he fought to control himself; struggling to resist the desperate urge to _touch_ – oh, how he longed fiercely to feel that lithe body in his hands…but no! He couldn’t. He _shouldn’t!_ His limbs trembled with barely restrained lust, even as his innermost being fought against it. His psyche was being torn apart in a battle between immense shame and immeasurable _want_ as his companion ignited the embers of eroticism he’d been struggling to keep buried in the depths of his conflicted soul. His mind screamed for him to stop – to put an end to this madness, this _lechery_ – but his body screamed louder; and it cried out for more. _Much, much **more**_. He couldn’t deny the slow fuse of lasciviousness unfurling within him; couldn’t stop the hands that were pleasuring him in the most deliciously sinful ways; couldn’t keep his own hands from eagerly reaching out to reciprocate. He _didn’t want to_. The object of his fantasies was finally within his reach, and _oh,_ it was _so much **better**_ than anything he could have ever dreamed of!

He grasped blindly at the man before him, fingers trailing along the svelte neck before tangling in silky hair as he pulled him in for a searing kiss. Lips parted and tongues clashed as the kiss quickly deepened; each party trying to taste more and more of the other, wanting to wholly consume all that the other had to offer. Suzaku groaned and pressed himself even closer to the other man, wanting to feel every part of him; his body alight with unbridled desire. Every touch, every brush of lips, every movement set his nerves ablaze; the blindfold – which had been securely tied on him not long after the masked man had appeared – making him acutely sensitive to every feeling flowing through his frame. His instincts nagged at him yet again at the fact that he hadn’t even resisted to being blinded in the presence of his foe (he’d practically welcomed the blindfold, actually, once he’d realised the implications behind it) but he stamped that concern down in favour of experiencing those sultry lips kindling sparks along his body.

Suzaku didn’t know how Zero had known his damning secret. He hadn’t dared breathe a word to anyone – not even his best friend – and he certainly hadn’t told the man himself. He’d never even met said man up close before, other than that one time when the masked figure had rescued him from being executed, but that’d been _before_ he’d started yearning for the man. The fact was that no one – absolutely _no one_ – knew of the corrupt cravings he’d been harbouring for the terrorist. Yet, here said terrorist was, hovering over him, trailing kisses and caresses along his body, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him to be doing. It was baffling, laughable – completely absurd, and yet…so _good._ Suzaku didn’t know how the other had known, or how he’d even found him – and he didn’t care. Even though he knew such information would probably help him to figure out the true identity of the insurrectionist – his _enemy_ – which was what he was _supposed_ to do as a soldier of the Britannian army, he couldn’t care less. None of that mattered right now. All that mattered was that Zero was here, doing the most arousing things with his hands and mouth; bringing his most furtive longings to life in the best way.

“Zero…”

The name fell from his lips in stuttering gasps and strangled cries (a perverse imitation of the reverent chants of the radical’s followers) as the mysterious man continued to pleasure him; igniting his blood with fervour as he touched him so sensuously in the most wonderful of places. It was enticing and exhilarating, and he revelled in every new sensation being wrought from his body – feeling himself soaring to greater heights of ecstasy than he had ever imagined possible. In response, Suzaku trailed tan hands along silky smooth skin; fingers gripping tightly, nails digging in ever so often, eliciting sharp grunts and moans from the man above him. He explored every inch of the lean body within his reach, mapping out each dip and curve, and tracing the subtle muscles; forming the image in his mind.

He wanted so badly to remove the silken fabric that was hindering his sight – to feast his eyes on the magnificent (terrible, villainous) being indulging him in such licentious bliss – but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. It wasn’t just out of the very justified fear that Zero would kill him (or worse, stop what he was doing with that _talented mouth_ , leaving him painfully, desperately unfulfilled) if he found out the man’s identity – it was so much deeper than that. The mask, the mystery, the enigma; it was all part of the appeal – that, and the fact that it was _so deliciously wrong._ The fact that he was engaging in such an act with a complete stranger – a man so dangerous that he was the most wanted criminal in the country – stirred something within Suzaku that he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. It allured him to the man in the most sinful of ways, making him question his sanity – his morality; and yet…he _relished_ in this new depravity rousing within him – his flesh yearning deeply for the forbidden fruit. So he left the blindfold alone, ignoring the nagging urge to see – it paled in comparison to magnitude of his awakened desire.

His brain and body had, at some point, stopped warring over the immorality of the situation; his mind too far gone with lust to keep putting up resistance – his entire being blazing with passion as Zero continued the titillating ministrations on his body. Suzaku felt as though he was overloading with the intensity of the sensations coursing throughout him. It was overwhelming, consuming; devouring him sweetly from within. It was too much, and yet, not enough at all. He wanted more. He _hungered for so much **more**_ ; his very essence burning with undeniable, uncontrollable _need_. He bucked urgently; clutching the rebel in a bruising hold; whimpering and pleading for what he wanted – and oh, never before would he have imagined that the act of begging (of _submitting_ like this) would turn him on so fiercely. The revelation left him reeling – had him keening and thrashing as he continued to beg unabashedly; imploring the other man to take it further – to take him brutally, ferociously – to kill him in the most pleasurable of ways.

Suzaku arched splendidly as the man finally entered him; pain and pleasure lacing and intertwining into an erotic combination that had him writhing wantonly and exclaiming enthusiastically as he was filled so exquisitely. The mere fact that it was his adversary above him, grinding, driving, marking and claiming him – taking him as he’d never been taken before – excited him immensely, sending fire coursing through his veins. Underneath it all, some minuscule part of him reminded him that this was perilous, that this insurrectionist could simply murder him at a moment’s notice (and _oh!_ What an unexpected effect _that thought_ had on him; the anticipation of danger heightening his senses; spiking his arousal) but he squashed that part of him down ruthlessly. He was far beyond the point of caring about anything other than the mind-blowing gratification he was currently experiencing as he allowed himself to be thoroughly ravished by the one known to him only as ‘Zero’.

They moved in unison; bodies melding perfectly together, as though they had always been meant to complete each other – like long lost puzzle pieces finally finding their rightful place after having been missing for an eternity. Suzaku felt it in the very depths of his innermost being; a staggering feeling of belonging, of _wholeness,_ overtaking him as he clung desperately to his newfound lover – and _oh,_ if only that label could be true, could be _lasting_ – but no, this was his _foe_ , his nemesis that he was supposed to _defeat._ The mere notion that this moment between them could be anything beyond a single severe lapse of judgement on his part was preposterous – and yet…and yet, as they lost themselves in the lustful abandonment of the deed, he felt as though a part of his soul that he hadn’t even known had been missing was now slotting into place. He cried out ecstatically from the sheer euphoria of it; his cries no longer in English, but in broken Japanese – his mind and body overwhelmed with rapture as the terrorist claimed him in the most fulfilling way.

He snapped alert again as sharp nails dug deep into his flesh, drawing his mind back from soaring on cloud nine to focus on the physical delectation of the carnal act. He let out a rumbling groan as those nails raked viciously down his sides, leaving his skin stinging and his nerves singing – the piercing bite of pain only serving to further accentuate his pleasure. His groaning was cut off by a gasp as his hair was suddenly gripped harshly, the terrorist yanking his head back to nip sharply at his neck. Suzaku marvelled at the way the rebel seemed to know exactly how to push all his buttons, delving into his core and wringing every last drop of bliss out of his body. It was only a matter of time now before he pushed him over the edge. He felt his toes curling and muscles clenching as that familiar coil tightened within him – heat unfurling in the promise of what was to come. Zero was taking him closer and closer to that well-known precipice – just as Suzaku had fantasised and dreamed of so many times; only this was _so very_ **_real_ **– and he was going to fall with him. He could feel it in the way the man’s rhythm broke; movements becoming increasingly frantic with need; pants and moans becoming shallower and growing in frequency as they neared their end.

They were close now, so close – on the very edge; the fever between them smouldering, suffocating; their passion _searing_. Their lips met again in a fierce kiss – teeth nipping and tongues clashing wildly – stoking the fire between them as their erotic dance reached its frenzied peak; bodies arching in unison, pressing even closer together, as though they were trying to merge into one being. He screamed into the kiss as the coil that had been steadily tightening within him finally snapped, and he plunged into pure ecstasy; the rebel falling with him and pulling him farther and farther into the blissful abyss. They writhed together – hands grasping and nails clawing; lips moving and tongues dancing – riding out the phenomenal waves of pleasure until they gradually subsided. As they both languidly came down from their high, bodies still entangled as though they didn’t want to part, Suzaku felt himself slowly slipping into darkness; the mental and physical exhaustion catching up with him as he basked in the afterglow of their immoral deed. His instincts weakly flared up again to warn him against sleeping in the presence of an enemy (which was laughable, considering he had just **_slept_** _with_ _the enemy_ ) but he stamped them down in favour of indulging in the warm embrace of said adversary. As he slid into oblivion, he sighed in sweet satisfaction, whispering the name of the one who had so thoroughly sated his desire; his temporary lover – his _foe._

“Zero…”

When he returned to consciousness, the blindfold had already been removed, and the insurrectionist was masked as before; hiding from him the identity of the one who had shown him such sinfully glorious rapture (that thrilling euphoria which he knew now he couldn’t get enough of). He sighed wistfully – yearning already settling into his soul – as he watched the rebel finish dress, enthralled anew by the graceful way in which he moved (more beautiful than a ballerina). When the iconic cape swirled dramatically to settle over the slender frame, Suzaku’s heart clenched in sudden, unbelievable despair as reality kicked in; as he recognised that the fantasy was over, and he would never again experience that incredible rhapsody – even worse, he had the mounting, unsettling feeling that nothing could ever satisfy him so wholly ever again. The thought shocked him to the core of his being – the true extent of what he had unleashed impressing on him (a line that he couldn’t uncross; _didn’t want to uncross_ ) – and he unwittingly let out a strangled gasp, drawing the attention of the terrorist who had been preparing to leave. Zero paused in his movements, turning to him once more, and Suzaku gazed into that shrouding mask with all the fervour he could muster – emerald eyes imploring, beseeching, as words failed him – until, after what seemed like an eternity, the masked man nodded; a silent agreement passing between them.

Then, with a flourish of his cape, Zero was gone.

…and Suzaku realised that he was damned.

**END**

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: the inspiration for this fic came from the following review on ffnet:
> 
> "Zero!"  
> [cue Lelouch walking in]  
> "..."  
> /awkward. 
> 
> The idea of it was so hilarious, but it made me think, "what if Lelouch found out somehow without Suzaku knowing?" and so, this fic was born as a result! XD
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed it! Feel free to leave comments. Constructive criticism is always appreciated.
> 
> Peace Out! ^_^


End file.
